


Icarus flew too close to the sun, but at least he flew.

by smile_it_will_get_better



Series: Project Icarus (winged!Dirk) [1]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Aftermath of Torture, BAMF Rowdy three, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Dirk Gently Angst, Fluff, Gen, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Blame Tumblr, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Medical Torture, Project Icarus (Dirk Gently), Sort Of, Whump, character study sort of?, gender fluid mona wilder, how could i forget the fluff, i guess, rowdy dirk gently, the rowdy three are secretly sweethearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-16 12:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15437304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smile_it_will_get_better/pseuds/smile_it_will_get_better
Summary: Icarus had long ago decided that the safest place in the entire room was under the bed.He had read story often about monsters who his under the bed to pray on unsuspecting children, but he found that under the bed was the only place the monsters weren’t. It was the only place where the doctors had trouble reaching him, the only place where the cameras can’t document his every move for research. Lots of people thought that there were monsters under the bed, but here there was only Icarus under the bed. So what did that make him?Icarus was 70% sure he wasn’t a monster. And if he was, he was still less of a monster than the entirety of blackwing so he counted that as a win....This story documents Dirks journey from Project Icarus, to Red, and lastly Dirk Gently and explore the relationship between him and a certain group of soul sucking vampires who seem to have a soft spot for him. This is the story of how Project Icarus became a holistic detective.





	1. They say Icarus was a fool for flying too close to the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So I just binge watched Dirk Gently in a week and lets just say that I am in love! I am so sad there isn't a third season so I have made up for it by writing fanfiction. I have so many stories planned but I decided to go for the biggest one first. I wanted to explore a younger Dirk before he was Dirk and how he grows up. This story starts out when Dirk is still in Blackwing and is doing his best to survive and he meets the rowdy three. The start to this is heavily influenced by a post I saw on tumblr that I steal a lot of the first chapter from, I can't find it but credit to the create. 
> 
> Also, Dirk has wings. Enough said I think.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!!

Icarus had long ago decided that the safest place in the entire room was under the bed. 

He had read story often about monsters who his under the bed to pray on unsuspecting children, but he found that under the bed was the only place the monsters weren’t. It was the only place where the doctors had trouble reaching him, the only place where the cameras can’t document his every move for research. Lots of people thought that there were monsters under the bed, but here there was only Icarus under the bed. So what did that make him?

Icarus was 70% sure he wasn’t a monster. And if he was, he was still less of a monster than the entirety of blackwing so he counted that as a win. 

Either way, when Icarus wasn’t sleeping or suffering through the tests, he was hiding under the bed. He often ignored the fact that it was very uncomfortable due to his wings and often made everyone around him mad. It made him feel safe and he never felt safe anymore. In fact, he barely knew what safe felt like.

But he would guess that it felt something like how he felt under the bed. So he stayed under the bed often, because he liked this feeling of safety, if that was even what it was. But he didn’t concern himself with feelings often because they were useless here. In this place feelings were just another obstacle, one that blackwing beat out of him a long time ago. 

So Icarus went through his days and completed, or failed, the tests to the best of his abilities, sat through his medical checkups and then went and laid under his bed. 

That’s where he was now, curled up half onto his side because his wings were sore from the poking and prodding from today's medical examination. The doctors were obsessed with his wings, but they were not gentle with them. They were often left bruised and messed up, causing Icarus to have to preen them which he hated. He hated everything about his wings because they were a constant reminder of his oddness. Of the fact that he was a freak of nature, some kind of weirdo. If it was up to him he would tuck them away into the little pocket space he had but the doctors wouldn’t let him. Priest told him they had to stay out for testing reasons. 

And whatever Priest said Icarus followed. He had been on the mans bad side long enough to know he was capable of causing him a great deal of pain. And Icarus didn’t like getting hurt, but then again, no one would. 

So when after a long day of more pointless testing and painful prodding Priest walks in, Icarus just feels acceptance and annoyance. 

“Come out from there Icarus. There are some people we want you to meet.” Priest says harshly, and Icarus lets himself contemplate not following those directions for a single second. But common-sense wins like normal and he slides out from under the bed, instantly looking down in a sign of submission. His heart is pumping and he’s confused because they never take him out of his room after testing time. This was new and he didn’t like new because new meant the unknown. And the unknown was something he didn’t know how to react to and that just led to pain. Especially when Priest was around, the man made Icarus’s heart rate spike dangerously and made his mind feel like it was running on overdrive. 

Priest looked at him disappointingly, which seemed to be the only emotion other than anger he would show, before walking out of the room. Icarus decided that he was suppose to follow. Maybe they were doing to take him to see Lamia again. It had been awhile since he had visited them. Icarus liked seeing them, they were funny and kind and a tiny bit stupid but he thinks that its just from the facts that their stuck in a form they don’t like. He knows they prefer to be something simpler, like a chair. Lamia was very happy as a chair, and they were very comfortable chair too. 

But Priest walked him past the guarded door with their sign on it and it made Icarus feel sad and worried, too emotions he often felt but never showed. Showing emotions were a sign of weakness and every weakness was exploited here. 

Priest stopped him in front of a door with an unfamiliar symbol on it. Icarus couldn’t help but shift from foot to foot while he waited, glancing wide eyed at the guards who stood by the door. There were four guards here, three more than he had and one less than Lamia. He wondered why this project was a bigger threat than him, but still a lesser threat than Lamia. He guessed that he wasn’t that dangerous, he couldn’t really do much, but Lamia was harmless, they could transform into many things but they were so sweet that they couldn’t really do much harm. 

Priest grabbed his jumpsuit and dragged Icarus into a large room. The boy quickly looked around, surprised to see that there was no one there. The room was completely bare except for the large chains that were attached to the ceiling and seemed to disappear into the floor. Priest watched him for a moment. 

“Project Icarus, we are going to introduce you to three subjects. They are called Project Incubus. I want you to be on your best behavior and let whatever’s going to happen, happen. DO you understand?” Priest said to him, his vice and face emotionless once again. 

“Yes sir.” Icarus answered immediately, barely even processing what the man was asking. Who were these people? Why were there more than one in a project? Icarus hadn’t met many projects yet, but everyone he met only had one person in the project. What made this one any different?

Before he realised it, Priest walked to the door, flipping a switch and calling out. “Time for a meal boys.” Before he walked out, disappearing and locking the door. Icarus watched the place where he disappeared for a while, not understanding what was going on.

Panic was racing through his mind as he looked around the room and saw that three spaced in the floor were now open and the chains that dropped down from the ceiling were now pulling something up. Icarus walked backwards until he was pressed against the wall, as far away from the holes as he could be. Fear was rising up out of him and he was showing it, which was bad, but he could only focus on one problem at a time. And the fact that Priest called him a “meal” to these people placed him on edge. 

Slowly cages that looked a lot like what Icarus imagined coffins to look like raised from the floor and inside were the three most intimidating men He had ever seen. Next to priest of course. 

The one in the middle had white hair in weird hairstyle that stood up and a dark brown beard with white streaks in it. The one to his left had shoulder length dark brown hair and a crazed look in his eyes that Icarus had never seen before. It set him on edge. The last one was bald and his dark brown eyes watched Icarus curiously. They wore standard jumpsuits like his, but they had a different symbol than him. All three of them steeped out of their weird person sized caged and just started at him.

He felt himself cower back more, tucking his wings in closely in an attempt to become smaller. Maybe they would leave him alone, but no one ever left him alone here. There was only one possible outcome here and that was pain. The fear Icarus felt inside skyrocketed when the one in the middle-stepped forwards. He let out an involuntary whimper, but quickly cut it off because he wasn’t suppose to make any noise unless he was instructed too. Talking back wasn’t allowed, was whimpering considered talking back? He really hoped not. 

All three of them men hadn’t moved, the one in the middle looked horrified and it’s the most emotion Icarus had ever seen out of anyone who isn’t Lamia. The other two had similar reaction. The brown-haired one was looking at the white haired one and the bald one simply stared open mouthed at Icarus. Slowly the white haired one lowered himself into a crouch and his two comrades followed. 

Icarus quickly realised that the white haired one was the leader and focused quickly onto him. All three were a threat, but this one was the worst. He was the one that controlled the group, maybe Icarus could reason with him? Was he even allowed to reason?

“Hey kid.” The man in the middle said softly, his voice a lot gentler than Icarus expected. “My name is Martin. The man to my left is Gripps and the other one is Cross. We are the rowdy three. Do you have a name?”

Icarus blinked at the man, Martin, before replying. “Icarus.” 

Martin frowned, which wasn’t good. But that was his name! That was what everyone called him though. Did he say the wrong thing? Was he not suppose to talk? Why was Martin frowning? Frowning meant disappointment which meant punishment. And Icarus didn’t want to be punished, he just wanted out of this room with these three men. 

“That’s no name.” The man said softly. 

Icarus panicked, searching his mind for any other name he could use. “They sometimes call me Svlad.” He blurted out. Hoping that one would be better. The man simply cocked his head. 

“Do you like that name?” He asked and Icarus paused. No one had ever asked him that. He never got to choose. He thought for a moment. The name reminded him of his mother, she would always say it softly, almost fearfully. It reminded him of the mocking voices of kids who teased him for being different. He shook his head. No, he didn’t like that name. 

“Okay then, why don’t we call you Red for now huh?” The man said, smiling softly and Icarus thought it was the most terrifying and relaxing thing in the world. These men were bred from violence, Icarus knew that much. So why were they not attacking him? Why were they tolerating him?

“Why would you name me after a color?” Icarus asked before he could stop himself. His eyes went wide when he realized his mistake. That was talking back, he wasn’t allowed to talk back. He cowered farther away from the men hoping beyond hopes that they would make his punishment quick. 

To Icarus surprise, Martin and the other two simply laughed. Martins laugh was quick and quiet, but Cross and Gripps were loud and boisterous. The sound was foreign to him. Icarus of course knew how to laugh, but he hadn’t heard it in years, not if you don’t count Lamia’s frequent giggles. 

“Because of your hair of course. And I like that name, so I’m going to keep calling you that. Icarus isn’t your name. Its your brand. And you shouldn’t identify with that boy.” Martins voice was suddenly fierce, and Icarus found himself very confused with the sudden mood changes. They were happening too fast for him to keep track of. Everything was going too fast. “I can’t believe their keeping kids in here now. How old are you Red?” Martin asked. 

Icarus blinked, still a little confused about the new title but he decided to roll with it. “Um, I think I’m around 13 years of age. I’m not that sure. Age isn’t really something I’m allowed to concern myself with.” He answered honestly. He really didn’t know his age, but he knew that he was taken in when he was six and the voice said that he was around day 2291 and that placed him somewhere around 13 if his bored calculations were correct.

The three men nodded, before moving to sit cross legged on the floor. Icarus hesitated for a moment before he found himself mirroring them. He scooted a bit away from the wall, the closeness of it hurt his wings. He found himself relaxing for the first time in a while. It had been a while since he had actually talked to someone in a nice calm way. He hadn’t seen Lamia in forever and Rimmer had been missing too. He found that he quite missed these informal talks. He preferred those much more than orders. 

“So, how long have you been here Red? You’re pretty young.” One of the other men, Cross he thinks, asked. 

“A while.” He replied easily. “I escaped a while ago but it didn’t really stick.” He said with a shrug.

“They found you huh?” Martin mused more than asked. 

“Oh yes, its quite easy to track the only person in the world with wings.” Icarus said, not bothering to mention the fact that his wings were hidden at the time, he had no idea how Blackwing actually tracked him.

“How does the whole wing thingy work eh?” The last one, Gripps, asked. 

He shrugged carelessly, finding himself less on edge within any moment. He knew this was a bad idea, he trusted people way to easily, but he needed the conversation. Needed human contact that wasn’t orders and slaps and more orders. 

“I’ve had them since I was born, Black wing quite likes them. They demand I keep them free.” He explained quickly, because he really didn’t like his wings. They should change the subject. 

“Keep them free?” Martin asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I can tuck them away into a little pocket dimension of sorts. But Blackwing told me I can’t” Icarus lets some of the anger at that order seep into his voice, just a little bit though. “So I keep them out.”

Martin frowned, watching him in silence for a few seconds. 

“What makes you special kid?” He asked, running his fingers through his beard. “I mean, what’s your deal? We’re sort of energy sucking vampires. Are you physic or something?”

Icarus eyes widened at the whole “energy sucking vampire part” a tiny bit of his previous fear trickling back in. 

“I uh, no. I’m not physic. If only the rest of them would understand that. I don’t predict the future, I simply know it. I can’t really control it though, it's more like hunches.” He explained simply and huffed slightly. The idiot doctors didn’t understand. They put him through constant testing and experiments to test his powers but it wasn’t like that. Things would go a lot smoother if they just let him do what he wanted. The universe tended to work better with him that way. 

The three of them nodded like he was making perfect sense. Which was a first for him but then again they were vampires so who were they to judge?

“You sound British.” Cross stated, leaning closer as if he could see the accent on him. “Are you?” 

Icarus shrugged once again, he may not remember much of his life before, but he remembered that his parents were scared of him, the kids around him hated him and everyone all around avoided him. He also remembered the screams, the blood, the sight of his parents laying shot on the ground as a man dragged him out of his house. He remembered all of that but not much more. But he could remember where he came from. 

“Not really. My parents are Romanian and I was born in Romania. They brought me to England when I first started developing my powers, that’s how I got the accent. I liked the way it sounded so I kept it.” He told them, and they looked a little confused but didn’t ask anything more. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes and Icarus, or maybe he was Red now, tapped his foot on the ground. He had to always be in constant movement, his mind was always spinning a thousand miles per hour and the knot in his stomach was ever present so he had to move to counter all of that or else the world would start to spin. 

Suddenly the door opened and Red scrambled backward, towards the Rowdy three and away from the door. He didn’t even realize he did it, just moved instinctively towards the people he trusted more. He tensed up when he felt the three of them come closer, still a ways away but seeming to almost be protective of him? That was new. 

Priest stood in the door surrounded by the guards at the front. He was watching them indifferently, but Red had spent enough time to see the masked surprise on his face. 

“Come on Project Icarus. Its time to leave now. Back to your cells Incubus. I’m surprised at your guy’s results.” Priest said, and Red slowly stood up, looking back at the three who made no move to listen to Priest. “We haven’t fed you in a while, and Icarus would be a very good meal to you. I would have to say as entertaining the four of you getting along was, I wouldn’t have minded seeing a little soul sucking action.”

All three of Project Incubus snarled at his comment. Making Red’s steps faulter on his way towards Priest.

“I knew you were a monster, but bringing a child into this? Horrible. Disgusting.” Martin snarled, and the other two seemed to agree. Red stopped moving, looking back and forth between the showdown that was happening. 

“Icarus. Here now.” Priest voice was dangerously soft, and Red hurried to comply, rushing to his side. When he started talking like that you moved to obey, it didn’t end up well if you didn’t.

“Take it from here.” Priest said to the soldiers before roughly grabbing Red’s arm and dragging him away. He risked a foolish glance back and saw the soldiers fill the room with a strange white gas before the door slammed shut. 

Priest dragged him back to his room where he tossed him in, not showing the poor boy any respect. Red scrambled to his feet, bowing his head until the man left and locked the door

Red sighed looking around before deciding to go to bed. He was exhausted from that very weird encounter and had a feeling that tomorrows’ tests were not going to be easy.


	2. I say its only because of him we know how close we can get

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to update this really quickly. This chapter explains a bit more about his life inside Blackwing and we get to see the Rowdy three again. We also get a peak at how Dirk's powers work in my story. (Yay)
> 
> Trigger warning for descriptions of torture through electrocution.

Red woke up how he always did, to blaring lights and a loud alarm. The sat up immediately, shaking off the lingering effects of sleep that still held onto him.

Today was always a bad day. After Blackwing figured out he wasn’t magically going to excel at his psychic powers because he wasn’t psychic, they started a cycle. Most of the week he still had to endue the countless pointless tests over and over again. But some days they changed it up, tested him for something new. HE hated those days the most because he always failed them and then Priest would have to come in to punish him.

Every weekend was different though, Sundays he just went through his medical assessment, which happened twice every week. If he was good during those times they would sometimes let him see the others, Lamia, Moloch, and even Incubus after he was done.

But Saturdays were the worst, the days they tested him. Testing his reflexes and things like that were done on medical assessment days, these days were reserved for pain tolerance, testing and things that could almost be classified as torture. Red knew what torture was, he had listened to the different audio books they gave him enough to understand that.

Every time a Saturday rolled around he tried to drag on his mornings, hoping that he could prolong the disaster. That’s what he was doing now as he continued brushing his teeth for an extra minute. He slowly pulled on a new outfit, a dull grey jacket and track pants. Red hadn’t escaped for too long, only around six months, but he missed the brightness of any place that isn’t here. He missed his bright jackets that he bought from a thrift store, these gray ones were boring and ugly. Someone once told him that the key to living life to the fullest and having people like you was brightly jackets. He tended to agree with that. 

Red slowly walked back to his room where he had to wait for someone to fetch him, if he was correct he managed to waste around seven minutes, a new record for him. He sat on his bed and stretched his wings out as fa as they would go, releasing them from the pocket dimension he tucked them into to sleep. He just finished stretching out every kink and sore in them when the door opened and his armed soldier stepped in.

Red stood up and walked out of the door, the soldier following closely behind. Most days, the gun the man behind him caused him fear, he wasn’t dangerous enough to warrant a gun. But on days like this, Saturdays, he sometimes thought that facing the gun would be much better than whatever the doctors had in store for him.

He waited in front of the lab door as the soldier unlocked it. The door opened and Red hesitated momentarily before entering, he knew a lot better than to run. The last time he ran it didn’t end up well. But just because he couldn’t run didn’t mean he was happy about this. 

The room he entered was all whites and grays with a small bed at the side and whatever the days torture was going to be that day. 

Today was the chair again. Although horrible, it was the most bearable of their testing and Red let out a breath he was holding. The chair was a bit like the tests they forced him to try. The only difference was that this one shocked him a lot more than the other, and the voltage was up too. A doctor entered from the other door in the room, Riggins following him. 

Red found himself relaxing as much as he could in this place, Riggings was nice, he wouldn’t let them hurt him too much. The doctor walked over to him and grabbed his arm, a little harder than necessary, his fingers digging into his arm as he dragged him over. The doctor pushed him down into the chair and started strapping him down.

No words were spoken, none needed to be. Red sat in the chair compliantly despite his heart hammering in his chest. He knew what he needed to do to make this as painless as it could be. He knew it was going to hurt but this was a familiar pain, one he understood. He had done this multiple times but it did nothing to stop the fear he felt. 

He closed his eyes as the last strap was secured over his chest and he was unable to move. That was the worse part, not the shock or the pain but the inability to move. The feeling of being trapped. That’s what Red was really scared of. 

“Starting tolerance test two levels below his last score. Administering shock in five seconds.” The doctor stated out loud and Red prepared himself, closing his eyes and relaxing every muscles with a release of breath. 

The shock came and left quickly, a bolt of lightning that felt like a million needles stabbing his head and chest. His muscles clamped tightly and he gritted his teeth to stop from biting his tounge off. Blackwing didn’t really care about silly things like mouthguards or anything to lessen the pain. He was slowly building up a tolerance, which was probably what the wanted. But it still hurt.

The shock was done quickly and Red knew he had only thirty seconds to readjust and recover from the pain. He took a few deep steadying breaths and one again slowly released all his tensed muscles. It was a skill he learned a while ago. 

The shock was increased and happened again, and again and again. After what seemed like days but was probably around an hour he felt himself start to black out, the edges of his vision darkening when he opened his eyes. He felt the straps being released from his arms and legs and was helpless to stop himself from slumping forwards into someone’s arms. He immediately attempted to pull away but his body was too sore too. 

This was normal, but someone was holding him and that was different, normally they’d just drag him back to his cell for a few hours rest before he went to complete or fail some tests. But someone was carrying him and he didn’t like that. He forced his eyes open and looked up, ready to flail with him limp arms and legs to get away. Riggins was the one carrying him, and despite every single part of him screaming to escape he made himself relax. He was too tired to complain much with the arrangement, it was nice to be taken care of once in a while. 

Red didn’t focus on where they were going, the pain manifesting itself into a roaring headache behind his eyes. The harsh lighting of the hallways didn’t help either as he squeezed his eyes shut. He often got migraines from the lights, but the strain from the electrocution added onto it, making it almost unbearable. He could feel his pulse dancing inside his head and let out a small whimper.

He froze once he made the noise, waiting for the reprand or the slap. But it didn’t come, Riggings simply turned Red’s head into his chest to either block out the noise or the sound. Red wasn’t sure which one it was but he was grateful for it either way. 

After a few seconds he heard the door open and he felt Riggins lower him down onto a bed. Red opened his eyes again and was glad to see himself in his room. He had ended up in worse areas when he was helpless.

Riggins surprisingly sat in the only other chair in the room, simply watching Red. 

“I’m sorry about today Slvad.” Riggins said quietly, and Red tried not to cringe at the name. It was one of Riggins flaw, he insisted on calling him that instead of Icarus. Red honestly preferred his brand name. “I shouldn’t have let them go that far but we need the resistance. We need you to become stronger, you understand that right?” 

Red didn’t respond simply closing his eyes. Riggings might be the closest person he had to a friend in the staff but he didn’t really care about him. Riggins was like the rest of them, just wanted to achieve a goal. But he was the only one who bothered to treat Red like a person, like he belonged. 

And sometimes he needed that, that kindness. The only other people who treated him like that was the other projects. Lamia was his best friend, his only true friend really. They would listen to him and talk to him and he loved spending time with them. It had been months since they had last met, Apparently Lamia had gotten into some trouble. Red hoped it wasn’t that bad, they were like a sibling he had never had before. 

The rowdy three were also sort of his friends. They had only met a few times, apparently the three never had positive reactions to meeting anyone. Blackwing wanted to study that, to see why. So they started throwing him in there every few Sundays. Red had actually found himself liking the men. They were terrifying and undignified but they were kind to him. Red had a sneaking suspicion that they were secretly big softies behind the gruff appearance. 

Everyone else in this entire organization were jerks who threated him like a little monster. Sometimes Red even believed them. 

Eventually Riggins took the hint and left him alone with a sigh. As soon as the door closed Red was pulling himself up and rolling out of bed, forcing his tired limbs to co operate for just a moment. His arms shook and he lifted him self up and collapsed under the bed in a controlled manner.

He quickly forced his wings into the pocket dimension, shivering from the cold he always felt when he did this. The pocket dimension was confusing, not even he fully understood it. He knew he shouldn’t have hidden his wings, but Blackwing couldn’t see him under here so maybe he was fine. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose.

Everything hurt and he could feel his headache growing worse. The piercing lights weren’t helping at all and no matter what he did he couldn’t block them out. He turned his head to the ground and kept it there even if it squished his nose uncomfortable. 

Eventually he managed to fall in a restless sleep, his head pounding and muscles sore. He managed to get a few hours of sleep before being awaken and dragged to more testing. He was glad when the day was over. 

_____________________________

Sundays happened like always, he woke up and went to testing. He failed the tests every time.

It was almost ironic, how even when the odds were n his favor, he still managed to fail. They had even giving him only two buttons to press, and yet he still got it wrong. 

Sometimes he thought the universe was purposely messing with him.

Sundays were normally a tolerable day for him, he spent most of it locked in his room all alone or visiting the other projects. But today was different. He could feel something tugging inside of him. Trying it’s best to pull him to where he needed to go. The longer he ignored it the more restless he became. He needed to go there, to find what he needed to find. But he couldn’t. 

After he failed a few tests he found he could concentrate and that no amount of yelling way going to make him do any better.

Eventually they took him out of there after only half a session. Red was surprised that no one repranded him. He expected at least a visit from Priest and to be locked up in his room for the rest of the day. 

Instead, two armed guards brought him down to Project Incubus’s room. Red was too delighted to think about what it meant. The three of them were really good at distractions and Red needed a distraction right now. 

The door was opened and Red was quickly thrown into the room. He stumbled as he caught his wings on the door frame, hastily tucking them closer towards himself in an attempt to keep them from further harm. He looked up to see the three already released and smiling down on him. He felt comforted, even if their smiles were border lining on looking insane. 

“Hey there Red.” Gripps said, grinning at him. Red smiled for the first time in what seemed like forever. The three of them were standing in front of the chains, so he guessed that they only just got released. 

Red walked a little bit closer, sitting down in the middle of the room. The three of them also sat down, it was weird watching them do that. From what he had learned, these men spent most of their time feeding on people and the time before that beating them up. But they seemed to respect him, to follow the rules and attempt to have manners whenever he was around. That’s not saying they were model citizens, but then again neither was he. 

Sometimes he thought it might be good to become the monster everyone thought he was. 

They talked about nothing for a few minutes before the feeling was back and as persistent as ever. Red started tapping his foot but the pull was growing stronger by the second. The rowdy’s seemed to notice his distress because they start talking louder and more often, content to let him just listen. 

After five minutes of feeling like something was violently pulling on him he stood up and started to pace. He could hear that the rowdies had stopped talking and probably thought he was mad. Maybe he was mad, everything about this was driving him crazy. He paced some more, his steps growing quicker as the string tugged harder, his heart was beating so loud he could hear it. 

Suddenly something grabbed his arm and tugged him, he turned stunned to come face to face with Martin. 

“Kid. Stop it, you’re going to wear a hole in the ground.” Martin grumbled. Red nodded stupidly, finding it easier to ignore the constant painful tugging in his stomach. Martin slowly walked him back over to his spot and pushed him down. Red landed with a thud and stared at where Gripps and Cross stared at him weirdly. 

“Okay Red.” Martin said sitting back down a little closer than he was before. “What the hell?” His voice left no room for avoidance.

“Sometimes I need to go places. But while locked in here I can’t” He said simply, he didn’t want to talk about it because talking about it helped bring the string closer to his awareness. Martin and the others looked confused but nodded either way. 

Luckily they dropped the subject.

“So Red, tell us more about that Lamia girl you’re always gushing about.” Cross said, probably just to change the subject. Red had talked about Lamia a few times but hadn’t really gone into detail. He could understand how the three were curious about the other projects.

“Well first of all, they’re not a girl.” Red started, gently correcting the man. “Lamia is simply a person. They can shapeshift, become anything they want to be. Some days their a girl and they Prefer the name Mona on those days, but on other days their something else. They prefer their female state when human but I’ve seen the male on a few times too. The whole concept of gender or whatever is very silly if you ask me, and Lamia tends to agree.” Red explained to them.

“Otherwise, Lamia is different, they are technically my age, but they can be whatever they want. They can make themselves look a thousand years old if they wanted. And then they would be a thousand years old. Its very complicated. But either way, I sometimes see them on the less busy days when we’re both good. Their practically family at this point. I would trust them with my life.” Red smiled as eh talked, and slowly the feeling of slowly being pulled apart from inside his stomach stopped. 

The rowdy three and him continued to talk some more, the topics ranging from the outside world all the way to the food they served here. Red even let Gripps close enough to pet his wings at one point. The man was infatuated with them. After a while the door opened. 

Two armoured guards stood there and nodded to Red. 

“I guess this means goodbye again.” Red said, trying not to show his disappointment. The three nodded and grinned dangerously at the guards as red walked towards them. The guards seemed terrified and eager to get out of there, almost gasping when Cross snarled at them. Red smiled as they pulled him out and slammed the door shut.

Maybe sometimes being the monster they wanted them to be was fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so know nothing about being electrocuted so that part is mostly written off of facts from the internet. So if its unrealistic I don't care and am calling artistic license.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter, next chapter we finally get to see Mona!!!


	3. I love the fall of those brave enough to fail for the right reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such a short chapter but I couldn't add anything more without making it super long. So here's a short one and I will have an extra long one up sometimes soon. I really just wanted to finally have Mona make an appearance here lol. I love my little holistic actress/actor.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, enjoy this super short chapter. 
> 
> Trigger warning for child abuse, although I cut the scene out because that felt like a little too much. SO its just really heavily implied here.

It was hard to remain human in this place. 

Sometimes it was easier to be emotionless, to let the tide take you under. To just accept your fate and let the current take your humanity away. 

Sometimes it was easy to hide and go through the actions, just complete the tests and sit in his room completely void of thoughts. Sometimes he found it hard to snap out of these moods, to let himself become human again, to feel and think and fight. So sometimes he just didn’t. He would stay in these moods for weeks, months sometimes.

He couldn’t do that anymore. Black wing had started sending him to see the rowdy almost every week and they would always snap him out of it. He would show up in an almost trance, barely even responsive, and the three of them would talk and dance around him until Red felt some of the warmth seep back into him and he could suddenly feel again. 

Sometimes it scared him how much he relied on the three of them now. He needed them to remind him he was human, to remind him he was valued, that he had something to look forwards to in this horrible place. 

But as much as he cared about the rowdies, Lamia was his first friend and he would do anything to see them. So when he was led to their door for the first time in forever he couldn’t help the smile rise up on his face. 

They let him into the room and he rushed forwards, barely even hearing Lamia’s squeal before he was attacked by a warm hug. He breathed in the scent of his best friend and smiled so wide he felt his dry lips split. He pulled away first and held her at arm length. They were in their female form, so he guessed he should address her as Mona today. 

She always made herself look the same age as him, but her childlike eyes always made her look younger. She preferred this female form, one with dark shoulder length hair and pale skin. She wore a medical gown that hung off of her thin frame as she stood there. She looked a little more stressed than usual, but she was smiling and he was so happy to see her that he overlooked it all.

“Icarus! I missed you so much. They wouldn’t let me see you because I refused to be human. I ended up in this form anyway.” She said, smiling despite her depressing words. Red felt his smile faulter as he thought of the torment his friend must have gone through while being forced to be in a form she hated. 

“Well, I’m here now and we have so much to catch up on don’t we.” He said, linking his arm through hers and leading her to the middle of the room, the farthest away from the armed guards that were always present. Most people would be bugged about the lack of privacy but they were used to it. 

Their every word had been recorded and their every move watched for as long as they could remember. Sitting together with their backs to the camera and the guards was the closest they were getting to privacy here. 

The chatter for hours, catching up on everything they missed in the months. Red talked about the Rowdy three and his tests. Talking about his efforts and how they seemed to be getting harder every time. In return she told him about the different forms she had become lately and shared the stories she came up with. 

They eventually laid down beside each other, laughing at some stupid joke that wasn’t really funny but they were both kids and deprived of any good content. They stared at the ceiling, both getting tired as the hour grew late. 

“Mona, do you ever think we’re getting out of here?” Red asked softly, looking over at his best friend and sister. 

“Maybe. Isn’t that your job? To know things like that?” Mona asked, wide eyed and innocent. 

Red laughed softly, trying not to sound bitter but horribly failing. “If only it was that easy.” He said softly, closing his eyes because the bright white of the wall hurt his eyes and he couldn’t stand the light of it anymore. He heard Mona say something but It was too slurred with sleep to fully understand. 

Red wasn’t sure when he fell asleep or who moved him but when he woke up he was I his own room. He couldn’t help but feel the loss like a hole inside of him. Now that he had Lamia back he never wanted to leave them alone again.

But now he was all alone in his bleak grey room with blank walls and nothing else. He was all alone again. Sure he had friends, but he still was very much alone.

 

He failed a test today, they wanted to see if he had managed to gain any mind reading abilities, he obviously didn’t of course.

He was under the bed when Priest was sent in. 

Red bit his hand in an attempt to keep himself from whimpering. He knew that Priest knew he was there, that this was all a big test. But he was not moving. Nope.

That asshole could come get him, he wasn’t going to cater to that jerks wishes. 

That mindset lasted around five minutes before Priest had that dangerous tone in his voice when he said his name. 

Red felt the fear run through him and knew the jig was up. He would have to take his punishment. He failed the test and this was what he deserved. He crawled out of his hiding place and took his punishment. 

 

They next day they took him to see the rowdy three. Red couldn’t have been more thankful. His eye was swollen and sore and he had bruises all over his back from where Priest threw him against the bed. 

He just needed the distraction the three of them gave him. The almost crazed childlike interest Cross had and the deadpan humor of Gripps. He needed the cold but caring way Martin looked at him and always seemed to know what to say to make him snap out of whatever was bugging him.

They threw him into their cell and he sat in the middle of the floor while they were brought up from below the floor. He folded his sore wings close to his body, it was instinct at this point. He despised his wings, but whenever they were hurt he found himself tugging them close to his body to protect them. He couldn’t imagine life without them. 

The Cross and Gripps smiled and whooped when they saw him, hollering as they ran a lap around the room. Red was still cautious about them touching him, he wasn’t really a fan of the whole feeling of skin on skin yet and the three of them understood that. 

The two of them stopped when they actually looked at him and red felt almost flattered at the anger that cross all of their faces. 

“Who hit you?” Martin asked quietly, his eyes flashing. The others two walked closer, far enough to be respectful but close enough to inspect him.

Red wasn’t a fan of the attention. He failed a test and he needed to be punished. He told them that much. If he wasn’t punished he would never learn, and f he never learned he would never live up to their standards.

Martin looked surprised at the statement, which was a surprise since Red thought nothing surprised the man. The emotion was quickly erased and quickly a new subject was introduced thankfully.

Red was content to listen to the men rant and scream and holler as they jumped around until he was forced to leave

He left the room with his head held high and his bruises hurting a little less than before.

 

The next time he messed up one of their new tests he hid under the bed and waited. He waited for hours upon hours until the lights went out and he still waited. 

He kept on waiting until his eyes burned with effort and the alarm went off. He went through the day with tired muscles but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. 

The next time he failed he waited again but Priest never showed up. He didn't come the next time, or the next or the next. Every time he failed Priest never came and everyday afterwards he couldn't keep the smirk off of his face.

The universe was finally giving him a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! Next chapter I will be introducing Vogel and we will get a very important scene that I've been thinking of. Soon after that they will be blowing this Popsicle stand.
> 
> I included a really obvious piece of foreshadowing here and I really hope you guys see it. If you don't it doesn't matter, it'snot that important. Just a little Easter egg...
> 
> I hope to update in less than a week, the next one is suppose to be a longer one so look forwards to that. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and please comment down below, I love hearing from you guys :)


	4. Fuck the easy glory of mere excellence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a super long Chapter But I cut it in half because I felt like it. So enjoy this medium sized chapter. There's some whump in it and a few character introductions. And also the start of some more intense plot! Yay! Also, sorry for it being a bit late, I'm on a trip with my friend and today was the only day we had wifi for me to post this. T.W. for some white room torture, be careful my loves!

Everything was white. The walls were white, the floor where white, even his damn clothes were white. There wasn’t even any shadows in the room, the lights were so damn bright. The brightness of it all was giving him a headache. He didn’t even know what he did to deserve it this time. He completed his test to his normal level of failure and hadn’t talk back anytime lately. But this morning Priest stormed into his room, grabbed his arm and threw him into this godforsaken room. 

He didn’t know how long he had been in here, time had blurred together until all he knew was the walls and his labored breaths. 

At first he tried calling out, speaking loudly about everything and nothing. He just wanted to generate sound but it all fell flat, and eventually he stopped talking. He sat on the floor by the wall and Closed his eyes, just for a moment. When he opened his eyes he wasn’t sure if a second, minute, hour, or day had passed. He wasn’t sure if he fell asleep or if he just felt like he did. 

He also couldn’t tell where the door was. He knew it was on the left wall when he entered, but now he didn’t know which way was left. He barely knew which was up and which was down. If he had to guess he would say he was on the floor, but he wouldn’t have put it past black wing to somehow switch it up while he was sleeping. Or not sleeping? He didn’t even know anymore. 

His wings ached and he tried his best to spread them out but it was much to small to do so, he finally just decided to tuck them into the pocket space, not caring if they got mad at him for it. Annoyingly enough, he could still feel the soreness in them. A phantom pain that just wouldn’t go away.

The boredom was quickly taken over by the headache and hunger. Red didn’t require much food, he never ate much, but he started feel the hunger creeping in. They hadn’t fed him the entire time and the emptiness in his stomach was making itself known. The headache was the worse though. He could feel the blinding pain pounding inside his head. 

It caused him to sit and wrap his arms around himself, desperate to block out the white light. The ach didn’t go away, he was aware of how pathetic he might look, rocking back and forth with his arms over his head but he didn’t care. It was getting hard to think; every thought cause a lightning bolt of pain to his skull. Like there was someone inside his brain striking a hammer over and over again. 

The headache lasts for god knows how long before the hallucinations start. 

Or at least he thinks their hallucinations. Priest is the first one, and he figures out pretty fast that’s its not real when Priest doesn’t hit him or scream or drag him out of there. He simply watches him. Red tries to block it out, tries to not look at him. But he can’t help it. Priest seems muted in this room, his gray and black outfit washed out and almost translucent. He just continues to stare.

“Little Icarus has lost his wings huh?” The man whispers, and like everything else it falls flat in the room, but it echo’s in Red’s head, causing his headache to spike as he moaned. “You flew to close to the sun. But like usual it was others who got hurt. Not you. You kill so many people don’t you Little Icarus.”

Red tried to block out the words, tried to ignore them. But Priest was moving closer, crouching down in front of him and stroking his hair. Red could imagine the fingers combing through his hair, could feel the way Priest tried to make it soft but the dominating feel to it never diminished. But the fingers weren’t there, he knew they weren’t. It just felt like they were. 

“All you do is wander around leaving a trail of dead bodies in you wake Icarus. You kill and you kill and you kill. Everyone you get attached to ends up dead, and yet you keep on getting attached. You keep on willingly giving yourself over to people who you will end up killing.” Priest whispered, and Red closed his eyes. “Pretty selfish of you.” 

Red didn’t respond, simply shut his eyes and focused on the pain, trying to use it to block everything else out. 

When he opened his eyes again Priest was nowhere to be seen. 

Red tried to hide how ridiculously happy it made him. But the relief didn’t last long.

“What did you do this time?” A soft voice asked, and Red looked up, surprised to see Lamia in front of him. He was in male form now, with the same shaggy black hair and all-seeing eyes but a stronger face structure, and a less pointed nose. 

“I don’t know.” Red whispered, glad to have his friend here, even if Lamia was an illusion. “I don’t know.”

Lamia frowned. “You had to have done something, have you killed someone? Broken a rule? Did you try to escape?” 

Red shook his head to all of them. “I haven’t done a thing.” He insisted. 

“Well obviously you did something or else you wouldn’t be here. And you’re always doing something.” Lamia pointed out. Red would have been offended if it wasn’t true. He did always manage to do something. 

The two of them sat in silence, Red couldn’t focus enough to keep up the conversation. 

“Svlad.” A voice cried out, and Red immediately looked over to Lamia, who seemed to be shifting. Before he knew what was happening, Lamia fell to the ground. Only it wasn’t Lamia anymore. 

It was a beautiful woman, with brown red hair that splayed out under her. Her eyes locked onto Red’s as he stumbled away. The woman had a gunshot between her eyes and one in her chest. She stared at him, her hand outstretched. 

“Please.” She whispered, her voice hoarse and fading. “Please Svlad. Save me.”

Red felt tears start to run down his face as the blood started seeping out of her, spreading quickly. The red was so bright in the white room, staining the ground she laid on. 

“Please son.” She whispered and Red snapped. Tears poured down his face as he watched the blood spread further, making its way closer to him. The red was so bright, so colorful that it hurt to look at. He could hear her screaming, pleading to be left alone, pleading to be left alive. 

He didn’t realize he was screaming until he felt hands all over him. He flinched back, kicking out and flailing in his panic. The touch burned, sent too many signals to his brain. He just wanted to be left alone, he wanted his mom to stop screaming. 

He wanted his mom back.

The men picked him up despite the struggling and he forced himself to go limp. Maybe he would pass out if he tried hard enough. 

 

The pain increased with ever jagged movement, causing him to cry out despite how hard he tried not too. After what seemed like hours they finally arrived at wherever they were taking him. Red heard a door open but could find it inside of him to look up. The bright lights hurt, the colors hurt, the sounds hurt. He briefly wondered how long he was in there for. 

He felt himself suddenly falling and in a panic released his wings, forgetting that they were too stiff and wouldn’t work. Luckily the fall was only a few feet, so his wings were useless anyways.

He laid on the ground, assuming he was back in his room. The guards snarled something about being at fault but he found that he couldn’t focus on the words. 

“Kid?” Someone was calling him, he could feel the hands on his shoulders shaking him trying to get him to respond, but it hurts. The hand on him caused bolts of pain into his head and the words sent spikes into his mind. 

He crawled away from them, trying to escape the pain that was steadily taking over his body. He felt overwhelmed, everything was too much. Too bright, too loud, too warm.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there curled into a ball. He risked a look after the pounding in his head reduced to a minimum. The room was gray, a familiar grey that clued him into the fact that he wasn’t alone. Sure enough, when he looked out he saw the figures of three confused and worried men. 

Martin, Cross and Gripps all were staring at him, their eyes wide and slightly bewildered. Red didn’t think it was possible for them to be scared or surprised, but the bewildered look on their face was the closest thing they had. 

“You okay Red?” Gripps asked, the noise piercing into his head but it was a manageable pain this time. Red couldn’t do much than shrug. Cross was squinting his eyes at him. 

“You sure? You were out for a long time, I counted every second.” He said and Red didn’t bother asking. Cross had an odd hobby of for some reason always documenting time, every second, minute and hour was recorded by him automatically. Red was sure there was a word for it but he didn’t know what. 

“What did they do to you?” Martin asked softly, his voice laced with the promise of violence. Red wondered once again how these eccentric men had somehow become like his adopted fathers. 

“There was a white room. It was silent and bright and it made everything hurt.” Red whispered, his voice for some reason unable to come out any stronger. The men looked at each other, morbid understanding dawning on their face. 

“Priest?” Gripps asked.

“Priest.” Red agreed, knowing of the mutual hate they all held for the man. 

The door suddenly burst open with a loud bang, the sound causing Red to flap his wings furiously to get away. The three men immediately moved in front of him, their stances ready to fight. 

“Stand down. I need to see Svlad.” The man said, who Red immediately recognized as Riggings. He cried out, reaching towards the man who gave him some sense of protection. He was hurting and he wanted Riggings now, Riggins meant safety. He meant ice cream on his birthdays and small little gifts that Priest would always take away after a few days. Riggins may be keeping him here, but he made Red feel slightly safe. 

He heard the Rowdy three hesitantly move aside at his cry, somehow understanding his need. Riggins hurried and sat by his side. Hesitantly touching his shoulder. 

“Svlad? Are you okay?” He asked softly. 

“He doesn’t like that name.” Cross growled, causing Riggins to glance back but ignoring him anyways. 

“We need to get you back to your room Svlad, I’m going to lift you up now okay?” Rigging said before wrapping his arms around him and lifting him up. Red briefly was concerned at how easily the older man picked him up, he had lost a lot of weight lately for some reason. 

The rowdy three stood off to the side, looking like they wanted to dart forwards and grab him out of Riggins arms. They didn’t though, and Red watched them all the way out the door. Riggings paused for a second by the door, turning slightly. 

“I’ll let you know that I have taken measures to make sure Priest does not have the same privilege as he used too. I have been appointed as Svlad’s new overseeing, hopefully that puts you at ease.”

Then they were out the door and Red felt like crying in relief. Priest wasn’t his overseer anymore, he might not know just what that means but from what he understood it meant he couldn’t touch him anymore. All decisions concerning him had to go through his overseer, so that meant Priest can’t just drag him anywhere he wants anymore. 

The relief rushed over him. Priest can’t constantly terrorize him anymore, the constant fear he always felt would slowly wash away.

Red barely even noticed when Riggins laid him down in his own bed, turning off the lights and closing the door. The darkness helped his sore eyes and Red relaxed slightly, closing his eyes and soon fell into a restless sleep. 

 

He didn’t see priest again for a long time and slowly he felt the constant fear diminish, never gone, only faded.

He went through the days, doing the exact same things he’s been doing for years, testing, medical and then whatever else they wanted. 

Riggins wouldn’t let him see the Rowdy three for a while, he said there was something changing that they needed to adjust to before he could see them again. Which made him a bit upset, but Riggins made up for it by letting him see Lamia more. 

Right now Mona was turning into random objects and animals, taking requests from Red. 

“Wait! Do an Elephant!” He cried out, laughing as she changed to a small elephant who ran around him. He felt her trunk tickle his neck and he laughed again, feeling happier than he had in ages. “Now a butterfly!”

The elephant quickly changed into a stunning blue butterfly that flew around before landing on his nose. The wings tickled him and he sneezed, causing the butterfly to take off again and change back into a girl. They dissolved into giggles, laughing so hard they couldn’t breath. 

The door slammed open, and Red looked up, expecting to see Riggins come to collect him. His blood ran cold when he saw Priest. He felt the fear return full force, thinking of the bright white room with white walls. He felt Mona tense up beside him, sensing his distress and quickly turning defensive. 

“Down girl.” Priest chuckled, stepping inside. “I’m just here to collect Icarus and bring him down to testing, there’s someone we want him to meet.”

Red felt himself tense more as the man got closer. Sure, he was curious to see whoever they wanted him to meet, but he didn’t want to go anywhere with Priest.

“Let’s go boy.” Priest growled and held out a hand, waiting to pull Red up. Shaking, he took the man’s hand. Letting him drag him to his feet and out the door before he uttered a goodbye to his friend. 

They walked down the halls, Red’s head ducked to avoid all eye contact or anything that would piss the man off. They walked towards Project Incubus’s door and Red felt a lot more at ease. He wanted to see his friends again, would endure the shock of seeing Priest again to do it. 

The door opened and Red was tossed in. Priest slapped a button and waited for the cages to life, Red stepped forwards excited to get time with his friends. It was rare he got to see two different Projects in one day. He was standing in the middle of the room waiting for them when for some reason the reason there was four people getting lifted. 

His small smile faded off his face and he backed up a bit, unsure of who the fourth person was going to be. 

The chains lifted up and Red found his gaze stuck on a boy maybe a year younger than him. He had wild black hair and even wilder brown eyes. He smiled at Red, who felt himself shrink inside himself. He glanced over at Martin, ignoring the fact that he could hear Priest leave. 

“Well hello again Red. Meet the newest member of our group; Voogle.” He said, stepping forwards, seemingly unaware of the way Red seemed to shrink back. 

“He’s around your age I think.” Martin said and Red watched as the boy walked closer. Smiling wide. 

The boy stuck out his hand into Red face, causing him to flinch slightly. The boy didn’t see to notice.

“Hi! I’m Voogle, I’m new around here. What’s your name?” He said, his voice loud and booming. He would fit in perfectly with the others. 

“Um, I’m Red.” He said quietly, taking his hand and shaking it slightly. 

“Cool. I’ve heard a bit about you, cool wings by the way.” He said, reaching over and running his fingers through the feathers. Red found himself frozen in place. The last time he interacted with someone his age other than Lamia had been years ago. When he was way to young to have formed proper friendships and learn right from wrong. 

Slowly but surely, Red warmed up to the new boy getting used to his unlimited energy and habit of jumping on his back and demanding him to fly around, no matter how many times Red said he couldn’t just work like that. 

Soon the two of them were learning some intricate hand thing that Voogle insisted was the cool thing to do. Red found it hard to remember when to clap, when to hit Voogle’s hand and when to do other intricate things. 

Soon the rest of them joined in, playing a weird game that involved reflexes and slapped each other hands. Cross and Gripps were soon grappling with each other, each one demanding that they other cheated. Voogle laughed at them and even Martin was chuckling. 

“So,” Red asked when the two of them finally called a truce. “Are you guys the rowdy four now or?” He asked. 

“Nope. We’re the rowdy three.” Cross said as if it was obvious. 

“But, there’s four of you now?” 

“Yeah, so?” Gripps replied, and Red just nodded. Whatever made them happy. 

They tried playing the game again, but Voogle soon got bored. 

Luckily, Riggins came in to rescue Red before Voogle decided to jump on him. Red found himself slightly sad to go. Something was telling him that things wouldn’t last long. Something was going to happen, something big was coming. He didn’t know what, but it wasn’t going to be good. 

Everything was going to change soon. 

 

Two weeks later was when Red started noticing a problem. 

Riggins was getting tense, missing bringing him ice cream for his birthday and not accompying him to all of his testing. 

Normally it wouldn’t bother him, he didn’t need a babysitter, but whenever the man was around he seemed distracted. He was off, something was bugging him and Red was curious as to what it was. 

Visits with Lamia and the Rowdy three (four?) were cut off almost two weeks after he first met Voogle. The tests started increasing in urgency, the punishments raising with every fail he got. The medical assessments started getting more intense too, became more invasive. 

Red started eating less, his hunger dwindling into nothingness as he became more and more exhausted. It was almost like they were trying to gather as much information as they could. He once again got the feeling that something was happening, something big. 

He was currently hiding under his bed, exhausted from todays testing. He hid his wings to attempt to ignore the constant ache in them. The feeling of needing to be somewhere was constant these days, and he told the doctors that, but they ignored him.

Suddenly alarms started ringing and Red darted out from his bed, looking around for the cause. The dark light of his room were flashing red, over and over again symbolizing danger. 

Suddenly there was a loud bang by the door, shaking the frame. Red spread out his wings, taking the closest thing he knew to a defensive stance. The door burst open and Red’s heart pounded a thousand miles per hour. 

But standing there in the doorway was the four people in his favorite trio howling and shouting in excitement. 

“Hey kid.” Martin grinned. “Ready to get the hell out of here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exciting chapter up next! Since it's already half written it should be up either tomorrow or soon after. It requires a bit of editing to make it perfect because there is some interesting parts in it. And also, there is an end in sight, there should be around 2 more chapters, and maybe a bit of a epilogue if it's wanted. So yeah, hope you enjoyed this chapter and feel free to comment and/or leave kudos because it makes me happy :)


	5. The only legacy I will accept is to know that however far I got, it was as far as I was capable of going

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this chapter up super quick because I felt like spoiling you guys. And my friend was sick so I had nothing to do but write all day. So yeah! Hope you enjoy this chapter. It can be taken as sort of the last chapter of the story, but there will be a epilogue type chapter next with a time jump and all that Jazz.  
> In this chapter there is a bit of an injury, so just a heads up.  
> Hope you guy's enjoy this chapter!!!!

Red couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. This was it, the big change he felt coming. And if anyone could get him out of there, it would be the Rowdy three. 

“Come on Red, we got to hurry.” Voogle said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along the halls. 

“Here you go kid. Have fun.” Gripps said, handing him a baseball bat. Red stared down at it, not sure what he was suppose to do with it. Voogle grinned at him before winking and taking off howling with the other three and smashing things. Red figured out that he was probably suppose to do the same thing.

Hesitantly he followed them, holding the bat loosely in his hand. He didn’t want to hurt people, he had done enough of that already. He followed the destruction the four of them caused, passing fallen bodies and ruined chunks of wall. 

Every door they past they kicked open, and soon the hallways were overflowed with different projects, most of them he didn’t know. They eventually got to Lamia’s door, and Red pushed to the front, wanting to see his friend. 

The door burst open and immediately gunshots flew past them, causing Red to shriek and dive tot eh side. He kind of forgot the armed guards always watching them. 

“Icarus?” Lamia, in their male form, asked surprise written on his face. 

The Rowdy three quickly took out the guards, getting close enough that the bullets were useless on them. Red ran up to his friend, grabbing his hand. 

“We’re getting out of here, let’s go!” He said, pulling his friend along. The two of them ran hand in hand, Lamia pulling him away from trouble when he got too close. The rowdy three quickly lead them away from the fighting to a back door. Lamia suddenly turned into a jacket, a bright yellow one that Red remembered telling them about from his time outside. Smiling, he slipped it on, not even wondering why Lamia suddenly wanted to become inanimate. The rowdy three started beating on a metal door, attempting to break the locks.

Red stood to the back, nervously watching them as a pit grew in his stomach. Something was wrong. His wings twitched in fear.

Suddenly he felt a hand grab his shoulder and roughly pull him back. He cried out as he felt a knife press to his throat and a body flush under his. 

“Where do you think your going boys?” A voice hissed in his ear. The rowdy three turned, growling as they gazed on the one and only Mr. Priest.

“Let him go.” Martin growled advancing slightly with his team behind him. 

“Nope.” Priest said, digging the knife in deeper. Red whimpered despite trying not to. The four of them stopped, torn between bashing Priests head in and saving Red. Red kind of hoped they’d go for the latter. Mostly out of a preference for his life. 

“I want all of y’all to just put down those weapons and calmly walk back to your cells. If you refuse I will not hesitate to hurt poor little Icarus here.” Priest said, jerking Red back and forth. 

“And you little birdie,” Priest muttered in Red’s ear sending chills down his spine. “Take your friend off and toss her over by those lovely friends.” 

Red nodded jerkily, slowly raising his arms and sliding Lamia off. He didn’t even bother correcting Priest “her” comment, despite really wanting too. He held onto Lamia for a second longer than he could have, hoping that they would turn into something useful. But the poor jacket seemed just as frozen as Red felt. 

He softly tossed the fabric over to the rowdy three, watching as it morphed into Lamia, who looked completely terrified. Mr. Priest never dared to hurt Lamia, he was too unpredictable and there was nothing really stopping him form killing them all. But the emotional terror that Priest put them through was enough to send him cowering. The boy seemed to hide behind the bulk of the four other men, although Red didn’t blame him, he would too if he could. 

“Time is ticking boys, I wouldn’t want to hurt poor little Icarus’s would I?” Priest purred, running his fingers down Red’s arm. Red shied away from the touch, fear causing his blood to run cold. 

“We will peel the skin from your bones if you touch a single hair on his head.” Gripps growled, his eyes feral from the anger. The hate all of them felt towards the man was lethal.

“Oh you mean like this?” Priest asked innocently as he ran his fingers through Reds mop of hair, his fingers tumbling through the curls.

“You got five seconds to put your weapons down.” Priest warned. “You let the boy get hurt in your first attempt, are you willing to injure him again?” 

Red was confused, had they already attempted escape? And he got hurt for it? He didn’t know what he was referencing to. Or did he? The last time he got hut without reason was the white room, was that their fault? He found that he really didn’t care right now.

“Five….” The four of them didn’t move but shifted from foot to foot. “Four….” Voogle snarled, stepping forward but was quickly restrained. “Three….” Cross growled, looking over to Martin and his bat. “Two…” Martin cursed under his breath but didn’t move. Red prepared himself for the worse. He couldn’t expect the men to give up their well-deserved freedom for him, the one thing they were dying to have. “One.” The man whispered. 

The crack of his wing breaking felt ten times worse than it sounded.

Red heard himself scream as blinding pain ran through him, causing all thoughts to run out of his mind as he crumpled to the ground. He heard Priest swear as his rapid decent cause Red to slip from the other man’s arms, leaving the man hostage-less.

The Four men immediately advanced, causing Priest to start a valent effort at defense before he retreated. Red didn’t care. He was sobbing, reaching back trying to grab his ruined wing. Tears obscured his vision but he didn’t care. He grabbed his wings and cried out from the pain, trying to see the broken bone. The wing pointed the wrong way, the heat and pain emitting from it was a horrible sign. Red knew that much. 

He might not ever be able to use it again. The thought struck his mind, causing a sob to get stuck in his throat. He didn’t like his wings. He tried to convince himself of that. He hated them, he was crying from the pain, not the loss. He was lying. 

He might resent his wings, but they were his. Now he will never be able to fly again. His wing was ruined. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually flew, probably when he escaped the first time. But he remembered how the wind felt against his face, how his wings carried him up into the sky and far, far away from everyone else. He had censored those thought, buried them deep under the hate he felt for being different. But now it was all he could think of.

That and the pain emitting from it, pulsing in waves. 

He felt someone touch his shoulder and he jerked away, the pain making his mind cloudy. Blinking, he saw Lamia and the Rowdy three in front of him. 

“We have to go Icarus! Let’s go!” Lamia cried, panic filling her eyes as Red stumbled to his feet. Somehow the door was now open and they all charged outwards, Martin leading them towards a large black van by the side of the building. 

Red had to blink against his tears, trying to focus on what was in front of him. He could taste the fresh air, filled with pine and the scent of moisture. It was dark out, but he could make out trees and a large looming building. Looking up, he could see a million stars. All twinkling and blinking in and out of existence. 

He wanted to keep looking, to comprehend that he was finally free again, but he was being pushed into a truck and his wing bashed against the wall. Causing his vision to white out momentarily. When he zoned back in they were off, Martin driving like a mad man down the road. Cross and Vogel sat beside each other, howling and grinning like crazy. Gripps was by his side shaking his shoulder and Lamia was by his side, worriedly grabbing his arm in a death grip. 

“We got to reset that thing Red.” Gripps was for once serious. He reached a hand towards the injured wing, but Red pulled away fear running through him He didn’t want anyone to touch his wings anymore. He couldn’t imagine fingers on his wings, running through his feather with the invasiveness. He knew Gripps wouldn’t hurt him, but he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t trust anyone like that. 

Before he could think of the repercussions he was tucking his wings into the pocket dimension, tearing open the fabric of the universe to shove them inside. The pain didn’t go away, the phantom limb pulsing with pain. 

“Red.” Martin growled causing red to shrink away from him. His voice was deep, sounding gruff and angry. Martin must have noticed, because he quickly softened his voice slightly. “It will hear wrong if we don’t set it.” He pointed out. 

Red juts shook his head. He couldn’t. He was being stupid but he couldn’t help it. 

Luckily, Martin just sighed and Gripps backed off, leaving him and Lamia alone. 

“I’ve never been outside.” Lamia whispered, and Red turned to look at him, his eyes were wide and unbelieving. “I don’t really like it. Is this what you want Icarus?” HE asked, his head tilting slightly.

Red nodded, he wanted this more than anything. “You’ll learn to enjoy it. It’s a lot better than in black wing.” Red leaned his head against Lamia’s shoulder. “No one will hurt us here.”

“No one hurt me in there either.” Lamia pointed out, and Red tried not to be bitter. He often forgot that he was the only one in this group classified as weak, and that he was the only one Black wing could actually hurt. 

Red closed his eyes, and suddenly he was falling slightly. Catching himself, he looked to see that Lamia had turned into a pillow for him. He hummed his thanks and laid down, pain stealing all of his energy. 

He was asleep in moments. 

 

“Welcome back to the waking world.” Someone was saying, pulling Red from his sleep. He blinked sluggishly and saw Cross grinning in front of him. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and wincing at the pain in his back. Or not quite his back, but more behind it, where his wing would normally be. 

He decided to ignore it, the pain in his back and the ache in his heart would go away soon enough. 

“What are we doing? Why did we stop?” Red asked, looking around the van. Only Cross was in front of him. 

“Grub. Stopped at some restaurant. Let’s go.” Cross said before slipping out of the van, Red slowly following him.

They were parked in front of some fast food restaurant, and when he looked he saw that the van wasn’t really legally parked, but then again they just escaped the government so screw laws. He walked in, suddenly nervous as everyone turned to stare at them. It made sense, all five of them were wearing grey jumpsuits with weird symbol on them.

Red quickly sat in his seat, sliding in next to Vogel, who grinned at him. Martin was walking back to the table with two trays balanced in his arms. He placed them down and everyone just grabbed things, picking at friends and passing around different burgers and chicken nuggets. Red carefully lifted the food to his mouth, taking a bite of a salty fry. He closed his eyes at the warmth, the flavour so much more intense than the tasteless paste he was sued too. 

He had never felt hungrier in his life. He shoveled food into his mouth making up for the months where his appetite had dwindled into nothingness. 

He was aware that everyone was staring at them, watching the three grown men with two young teenagers all eating like they hadn’t in years. One old lady looked like she wanted to say something at their manners, but Red smiled a blinding smile at her and she simply melted, smiling back at him before turning back to her food. 

Red and the rest of them quickly finished their food, and Cross and Gripps for some reason started to arm wrestle with Vogel cheering them on. Martin grinned before looking over at Red. 

“You like ice cream kid” The man asked. Red felt his eyes widen as he nodded. Martin reached into his jacket and pulled out a five-dollar bill. “Go get yourself something special.” He said with a wink. 

Red looked down at the bill, taking it. Where did the man even get the money?

“Stole it from some blackwing agents. Gathered enough money to support you until we can get on the road. We don’t necessarily need food.” Martin replied to his look, and Red just nodded deciding to just go with it. Money was money and it wasn’t like he had any. 

He practically ran up to the counter, buzzing with excitement. He remembered Ice cream from before. His mom used to give it to him as a treat. He didn’t have a chance to have it when he escaped and the stuff Riggins brought him for his birthdays often was second rate and melting. 

He ordered one and waited to the side, shifting from leg to leg. A nice lady handed him the ice cream cone and a small fries. 

“I don’t think I ordered this ma’am.” Red said politely, pointing to the fries. The young woman smiled sadly at him. 

“You look like you need it. It’s on the house.” She said with a wink before turning away. Red grinned and quickly shoved the fries into his mouth, eating them quickly before he made it back to the table. He grinned at Vogel and allowed the boy to have a single lick of the cone. Because he was an amazing friend. At least that’s what Vogel declared a thousand times after he ate the treat. 

Soon they exited the door, Vogel running ahead with Cross and Gripps. Martin chased after them, not quiet running but speed walking. They all jumped into the back, Red finding himself overjoyed when he realized that he could ignore the ache in his back. 

Lamia was still a pillow, sitting innocently on the seat. Red decided not to bug her. If they wanted to stay a pillow then they would stay a pillow. It wasn’t Reds place to decide. 

Soon they were on the road again, the rowdy three talking to each other and fooling around. Red found himself smiling at them, but his energy was spent. He closed his eyes for only a moment before he was slipping away into the current. 

 

Red woke up hours later, and kept slipping in and out of the waking world for the next few days. Slowly the agony in his wing diminished to a dull ache and he started regaining his energy. 

“Do we have a plan or are we just going to keep driving forever?” Red asked after two weeks of pointless traveling. Lamia was still a pillow and the rowdy three were getting hungry again. Red had offered to give them energy and they had no choice but to agree, but they tried not to.

He could tell that the four of them hated draining him. But they couldn’t just go and harm innocents so they didn’t have much choice. Red didn’t like it either, it felt weird and left him tired and disorientated. But he was willing to do it for them. They saved his life, it was the least he could do. 

“We don’t really have a plan. We might just drive around doing whatever the hell we want to. How does that sound boys?” Martin said, and the other three shouted in agreement, Cross cracking open a beer and taking a large swig. 

“I don’t think I can do that.” Red whispered softly, and all the cries quieted instantly. “I mean, you would have to get money for my food and I would just be an incontinence.” Red amended quickly, worried that they would think he didn’t want them around. He loved them like a family. A really large dysfunctional family, but a family nothing less. He didn’t want to leave them, but he had to make a life for himself. He needed to have his own life. 

“What do you want to do Red?” Martin asked softly. 

“I think,” Red paused, thinking it over for a second. He knew he wanted to help people, to do something with what he was made to do. “I want to become a detective. Use my power for something good.” 

Cross laughed. “Your like ten, no one would hire you.” 

“I’m fourteen first of all.” Red said defensively. “And I wouldn’t start now, I would start a life. Get friends and do something with my life.” 

Martin nodded, and Red felt something inside him ache. They were going to let him, he was worried they wouldn’t let him go. It was weird having a choice, being allowed to pick what he wanted to do. 

“One condition though.” Martin said causing Red’s smile to faulter. “We need to eat. And We can’t do that without hurting anyone.” Martin let his sentence and it clicked quickly into Red’s mind. 

“You can track me right? Smell me or something like that. You could come and use me as food whenever you want. I would let you. Maybe you could stay over every once in a while and we could catch up. I’m not letting you guys go. You’re stuck with me.” Red said with a smile. All four of them groaned. 

“Okay then.” Martin said, suddenly swirling off the road. Red braced himself and concealed a small yelp. Martin jumped out and yanked the door open. “No time like the present, get out.” 

Red blinked before grabbing Lamia, still in pillow form, and climbing out. He didn’t expect to leave this soon. 

Martin shoved a large pile of money at him. “See ya kid. Next time we see you we will be able to beat some shit up.” Martin grinned, and the boys howled their agreement. Red noticed that they did that often. 

“Oh!” he exclaimed, leaning forwards to say one last thing. “One last think, I was wondering if you guys could start calling me Dirk.” He said quickly. The words tumbling out of his mouth. This was something he had thought about a lot. He wanted to tear away from Blackwing permantly, and if that meant changing his name, then so be it. 

Martin grinned. “Dirk, like a dagger? Doesn’t sound like you. You’re too soft for that.” 

“I am not.” He replied with an affronted look. 

“yes you are. Way too soft, you a gentle Dirk.” Vogel laughed, seeming to enjoy the teasing. 

“Fine. I’ll be Dirk Gently then.” He sniffed. 

“Sounds good red. Dirk Gently suits you.” Martin said with a wink before swinging back into the divers’ seat. 

“So long Dirk Gently!” He cried as he drove off, leaving him alone. 

“Goodbye.” He whispered as he watched them drive off, leaving him stranded in the small town. He found he didn’t care, they would be back soon enough. Lamia changed from the pillow into a bright pink Jacket. He remembered when the nice stranger gave him his first colorful jacket. Telling him to keep it close to him. He never regretted losing it when Priest found him again. He slipped the fabric around his arms, it felt like a large warm hug. He turned towards the setting sun, smiling softly. 

With that, Dirk Gently started walking without a destination. He would find his way, he always did somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay yes. Re-reading this story I know the characters are horrible OOC, but I don't care because it's my story. SO yeah, that was my PSA for this chapter. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter and didn't feel too bad for poor Dirk in the beginning, but hey he has finally found his name! I liked the whole irony of his name literally meaning Dagger Gently. I don't know why lol.


	6. I want to drown in my own sweat knowing there was nothing left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, last chapter is here. I know I promised someone The rowdy three in this one, but the extra scene just felt wrong to me. So sorry but their only mentioned here. This is a much shorter one but I am planning a little sequel in the coming days. I really love Winged Dirk okay? 
> 
> Anyways, I hope this is a satisfying end to the story and you guys all enjoyed the story.

Dirk wandered for the next few years, getting jobs where he could, never truly making connections due to the erratic pace he kept. Sometimes he stayed for months. Sometimes he stayed for days. Sometimes he would get a good job and he stayed for a year, still not making friends because of his eccentric behaviour. 

It was a bit of a lonely lifestyle, but it was his. He was content, he sometimes solved simply little cases when the universe told him too. Most times he just wandered around, reading book and trying to educate him on the years he missed. He never could catch up, after 4 year he was still behind, still an outsider. He acted weird, he talked weird, he just never belonged. 

Lamia was his only friend, except they asked him to always call them Mona now. Dirk could get it, the act of purging Blackwing was always satisfying. He remembered how powerful he felt when he stopped identifying himself as Icarus. Even Red. He felt different, like a weight had lifted off his shoulder. He was free, Black wing was officially done. The Rowdy three had popped in once to tell him that they had been disbanded. Dirk had never been happier. 

Most times it was easy to ignore his other irregular things. The universe guided him sometimes, but mostly it left him alone, let him do his own thing. He could go where he pleased, but if the universe wanted him to move he would. He knew better than to ignore it.

His wings he found were a little less easy to hide. He had kept them tucked into the pocket space for years. Trying to ignore the extra limbs. But there was a constant ache inside him, a constant itch that he just couldn’t scratch. He took them out once, around a year ago. He stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom, almost in tears as the air behind him burned. The limb wasn’t there, it was somewhere else, and yet it hurt. It burned and shot pain inside him o deep he felt like he would fall apart. 

A last-ditch attempt to calm the pain was to take them out. In a flash the limbs were out, wide behind him, the white and brown feathers reflecting the light. He gasped out loud as he looked at them, the pain not easing. The left wing was hanging at a weird angle, defiantly still broken, but seemingly healed wrong. The feathers on them both were out of place, askew. He was sobbing before he realized he was. Tears running down him face as he stared at them. 

They were injured, hurting, but there. He had almost forgotten about them. About how wide they stretched, how they reflected the light, the way the color looked. He put them away as fast as he took them out. 

He stumbled to bed and never thought about that night again. He never took them out again. Never thought about them. Never talked about them. Not even to Mona, not to the rowdy three. 

It got easier after a while. Life got easier. He found a nice apartment, Mona was now a chair for some reason. Had been for a year or two. He didn’t really mind, just meant he was a little lonelier. But loneliness was something he was used to, something he understood. He didn’t like it, but he understood. 

He liked where he was, he liked the old woman who always smiled at him when he went to the store, he liked the mailman who had a small little kitten that made his rounds with him. He worked at the bookstore, shelving books and helping little kids find their parents. 

He wasn’t expecting to see someone from his past.

He remembered the man from when he was really little. A shy older man who always rung his hands and flinched when anyone came to close. He always wore gloves and never touched anyone. Project Mot was his name. The project who could kill with a single touch. 

The man approached him at work, posing as a costumer. When he saw him, Dirk froze, not wanting to see him. He ducked behind a bookcase, hoping the man hadn’t seen him. He had.

The man walked towards him, simply running a finger down the spines of the books. Dirk tried to walk the other way, trying to simply avoid him by sheer will. 

“You don’t have to run. I’m not going to hurt you.” The man called out softly, and Dirk froze. The man walked up beside him and walked him. “What should I call you now? My names Mark.”

Dirk looked at him, relaxing slightly. This wasn’t Mot, it was Mark. Just like it wasn’t Icarus, it was Dirk. They both had left Black wing behind. Maybe the man’s intentions were good.

“Dirk.” He replied. “Dirk Gently.” 

“Nice to meet you Dirk. It’s lucky I found you. Want to go get a drink? The store closes soon.” Mark offered with an easy smile, his eyes still holding the ever-present anxiety. 

Dirk looked at the clock, ten minutes before his shift ended. No way to get out of it. 

“Sure, I just need to finish up and then we can go get a coffee.” Or tea in his case. Mark nodded and wandered, looking at the books. 

The shift seemed to drag on, the anxiety getting to him. What would they talk about? Would Mark want to talk about Black wing? Did he not want to talk about Black wing? Was the man even friendly? Would the man want Dirk to stay with him?

Too many questions, not enough time. Soon enough the clock struck the hour and Dirk clocked off, his manager offering him a lazy good night. Mark joined him on the way out. They walked in silence for a minute. 

“The best coffee shop is just a five-minute walk away. Wonderful tea selections, good coffee choice too. I would take you out for a drink but I’m only 18, not old enough yet. Hope you don’t mind. The café should be fine though, its really nice. Splendid selection.” Dirk rambled on. Aware of the fact he was making a fool out of himself. He just tended to talk to himself out loud. 

“Selection is good.” Mark said and Dirk was slightly surprised to know he was listening. The rowdy three just tended to tune him out, and no one else ever bothered to listen to him. To comment on the jumble of words that fell out of his mouth. It felt good to be listened to. To be heard. 

They arrived to the café and Dirk was still rambling along, telling Mark all about his favourite tea. They entered the café that only held three other people. A student typing furiously on the computer and a couple leaning on each other. The man behind the counter looked like he could use a strong cup of coffee himself. 

Mark ordered a caramel mocha, whatever that was, and Dirk ordered a nice peppermint tea sweetened with honey and milk. They sat at a table and waited for their drinks. Luckily it came quickly, and Dirk immediately took a big sip of his, the burn going down his throat helping his anxiety. 

“So, what do we talk about?” Dirk asked quietly, because he knew Mark wanted to talk with him about something, he just didn’t know what. 

Mark looked around, making sure no one was listening in. 

“Do you regret it?” He asked quietly, his grey eye staring into Dirks. “Leaving behind Blackwing I mean.” 

Dirk shook his head immediately, thinking of the pain and fear that never faded from his mind. Always there, like the ache in his phantom wing. 

“I do sometimes. I’m grateful for the freedom, didn’t like being cooped up. But our powers. Maybe they need to be contained.” Mark raised a gloved hand. “I can’t take these off without fearing that I’m going to turn someone to dust. That’s not good. Maybe Blackwing was doing us a favour, keeping the world safe.” 

Mark’s eyes were wide, hoping for someone to understand. Dirk couldn’t imagine what It would be like, living in constant fear that you could hurt someone. He knew what it was like, sometimes he felt like he was that way too. Wandering blind leaving death in his wake. Sometimes he missed the security Blackwing held. The safety from the outside world that he could mess up. 

“I get the feeling. I know what it’s like to constantly be afraid.” Dirk said softly, closing his eyes as he imagined his mom’s dead body, and the elderly lady who helped him all those years ago with a now snapped neck. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. You don’t either. But being locked up is not the solution, no one needs to be locked up like that. We may be dangerous, but we deserve to have a life. Its worth it to see the sky, the stars. To breath in fresh air and hear a child laugh. To feel the books in the library under my fingers. Its all worth it. Its worth the pain I went through there, worth the fear and the constant pain I’m always in. Its all worth it. Because Blackwing wasn’t living. This is life.” He gestured to the shop around them. “This is life.” 

Mark sat in silence, watching Dirk carefully. Dirk squirmed under those eyes, not liking the way they bored into him, the intensity. 

“I guess so. But do you ever wish you stayed?”

Yes. No. Maybe. Sometimes. Dirk couldn’t pick an answer. He didn’t miss the torture, the testing and constant fear of injury. He didn’t miss the nights they sent strapping him down to the table and opening him up. But he missed the security, the fact that he was never truly alone. He didn’t like the randomness of life. 

“No I don’t.” Dirk decided. “there was no other choice for me. Not really. I have accepted that the universe needs me out here, finding things and helping people. I tend to want to follow that.”

Mark nodded silently, standing up suddenly. He moved to walk past Dirk to the door, but stopped. Leaning down and pressing a short kiss onto Dirks head. 

“Thanks kid.” He whispered before leaving. Dirk sat there for a while, his tea going cold. 

He had come to terms now. He was never going back. Mark helped set him straight, there was no life inside Blackwing. He may miss certain parts of it, but there was nothing compared to real life.

This was real life. He loved every moment of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done. Did it *snaps*
> 
> There it is, the end of the story. Dirk is happy knowing he made the right decision. He is well on his way to becoming the detective we know and love. Look out for another story later, I'm not ready to let this story go quite yet. Thank you for the people who stayed here throughout, who supported me and left amazing comments. (You know who you are) 
> 
> Love all my readers, thank you for sending time reading my story! Feel free to comment your overall thoughts on the story.

**Author's Note:**

> So after re-reading a few times I realized how confusing Dirks name must seem. He is the main narrator of this story and the name he chooses to identify himself with changes whenever he finds a name he finds more fitting to him. Eventually he will find the name Dirk but that will come in later chapters. 
> 
> I'm not sure about if I want to continue this or how long it will be. Comment and leave kudos if you guys want to see more.


End file.
